


the perfect creature rarely seen

by bluebismuth



Series: Jonelias Week Prompts [5]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Beholding, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Moth Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Revenge, post-160
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:13:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26174782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluebismuth/pseuds/bluebismuth
Summary: Elias beholds his Archive in all his new glory.
Relationships: Elias Bouchard/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Series: Jonelias Week Prompts [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1893688
Comments: 12
Kudos: 80
Collections: Jonelias Week 2020





	1. the perfect creature rarely seen

**Author's Note:**

> day 6 fill for jonelias week! (inhumanity + beholding)
> 
> also just as a heads up, day 7 will be a continuation of this, so i'll add that as a chapter when i'm done

Just as Elias expected, the Change didn’t just warp the world around him.

He rested his hand on the glass walls at the top of the Panopticon where he resided, casting his Sight across the domains that now littered the land— _his_ land, he remembered proudly. He could See the inner workings of the domains, drink in the fear and suffering that the avatars brought to the people trapped within them, but it wasn’t what he was interested in. Not now.

Instead, his Sight fell upon a cabin. A humble little thing on the outset, not much different than what it was before the Change. Aging appliances and dust that hung in the air no matter how often the cabin was cleaned, but it could very well be considered “home.” 

But now, every breath of the air inside was wet and unpleasant. Had the air outside not been poisonous in comparison, a window would’ve been opened. The walls felt smaller and smaller with each passing second, like it was closing in on its two inhabitants, threatening to never let them leave. It wanted to make them stay, always refilling logs for the fire, never letting them go hungry so they felt like leaving to buy food. As if there were places to buy food anymore.

Even then, Elias didn’t care about that. He cared about one of the inhabitants of the cabin, the same one that gave him this world, the same one that underwent his own transformation.

His Archive was even more beautiful than before, having shed the outward appearance that he was still human. He hadn’t been for a long time, but now it was all the more clear. A pair of feathery, brown and green wings had sprouted from his back, and the round, wide eyes on them shone gold and silver. What’s more, he had gained an extra pair of arms, and a pair of fuzzy antennae now protruded out of the top of his head. It reminded Elias of a moth, though he Knew it was from no particular species. No, his Archive was a creature all its own, a one of a kind deity meant to be worshipped.

It was a shame he was with someone who couldn’t appreciate it. Martin never had an affinity for the Entities, even if the Lonely had made quite the snack out of him. While he would never admit it to anyone, Elias had been caught off guard by him before—as if his passive, soft demeanor was simply a ruse. Elias wondered if he truly was as understanding and soft as he appeared. 

Even if he did have it, Martin would never understand the Archive like Elias did. Didn’t see that there was no going back, didn’t want to entertain the thought that there was nothing he could do. If he wasn’t so pathetically clinging to the idea that things could go back to the way they were before the Change, Elias would find it admirable. 

Martin loved a part of the Archive that no longer existed. Elias figured he would never understand why he clung to the past, but perhaps that was because he abandoned his own humanity long ago. For immortality, for power, it was a worthy exchange. 

If only his Archive could see that. Elias knew he was lamenting the loss of the world (that was hostile to him), mourning his friends (that had all either died or abandoned him), wishing for his humanity back (when his powers were so much better). All pointless. 

Perhaps he could coax his Archive into coming to the Panopticon. Leave behind a man who didn’t understand, who couldn’t truly love and cherish him, in exchange for someone who _did._

Elias could See him now, constantly rewinding and playing a section of tape. He remembered Gertrude’s voice, and he Knew that if he outsmarted her and goaded her into ending the world, she would ease into her role much easier. One thing that wasn’t irritating about her was that she never dwelled on things, never let the loss of anything stop her. If only her goals weren’t to undermine his own, she would have made a wonderful Archive. 

No matter. He could See his Archive’s thoughts, See how the inevitability and hopelessness was setting in. “I’m glad you see it now, darling,” Elias purred, sending his voice to his Archive, cementing it in his mind. 

“The Change is permanent. There’s no need to be so miserable over what cannot be returned. The past is behind you now. Basira and Daisy are gone. Melanie has removed herself. Tim and Sasha are dead. And Martin doesn’t love you for who you _really_ are. All things that could have been prevented had you not desperately clung to your humanity. But, no matter. You shouldn’t be worrying about all of that. All you need to do is come to me."

Elias Watched as Martin came into the room, as he talked to the Archive. He grinned, seeing them pack up the meager things they had left. It was...disappointing that Martin was coming with, but he Knew they would likely fight and get separated, or Martin would lose himself to the Lonely once again. 

“Come to me, my little moth,” Elias whispered. “My sweet, precious Archive. Let me show you how beautiful you really are.”


	2. sharp and steady

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon and Martin reach the Panopticon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> day 7 fill for jonelias week! (dynamic shift + choices)
> 
> thanks for sticking with this even though it's two days late lmao
> 
> also just a heads up that there's going to be eye-related body horror and eye gouging in this chapter, so keep that in mind

Jon couldn’t tell how long it had been since he and Martin started walking. It had been a long, tiring journey, one with arguments and venting and nearly getting lost to the domains roaming the earth, but the Panopticon slowly getting closer and closer kept them going.

And now, they were here: they stood at the foot of what used to be the Institute, but now it stretched high into the sky. The biggest eye he’d seen so far was casting its gaze down onto the Panopticon, its green iris wide and waiting. Jon knew it reminded him of Elias’s—no, _Jonah’s_ —eyes. 

He sighed, and squeezed Martin’s hand in his. He’d had time to think about what exactly he was going to do to Elias once he got there. Considering the track record of avatars they’d encountered, there was a good chance nothing would change if he killed Elias. The world would still be in turmoil. 

But...he had hurt everyone around him. Elias hurt everyone that Jon cared about. All for his own selfish means. He had no reason to other than that. Other’s pain for his own reward.

“Er...Jon?” Martin tapped him on the shoulder. “Are you alright?”

“Y-yes, I’m just...thinking.”

“Oh god, don’t tell me you’re _still_ trying to figure out what to do with Elias?” Martin sighed, exasperated. “We’ve had _months,_ Jon!”

“W-we don’t really know if it’s been months, Martin, I…” Jon put his hands on Martin’s shoulders. “I’m sorry, I just...I wish things were more straightforward. And...I’m scared I’m going to take his place if I kill him.”

“You’re not,” Martin replied. “Jon, you’re a good, selfless person. Elias is neither.”

“If I’m given that power, I could become even more corrupt.”

“Even more—” Martin dragged a hand down his face. “Oh, whatever, I’m just...I _know_ you, Jon, even with...all this happening—” he gestured to the wings on Jon’s back. “—you still haven’t lost your humanity. At least where it really matters.”

“...Not yet, at least.”

Martin sighed again, but he didn’t say anything for a few moments. “Okay, well...what do you want to do? Because _I_ want to go in and strangle him.”

“Understandable,” Jon replied, smiling a little. “Mm, well. I’ll certainly confront him. And I’ll do my best to avoid whatever he tries to manipulate me to do.”

“Sounds good, then.”

— — —

The walk up was tiresome. The two of them were watched from every angle, and whereas Martin was pained and paranoid by it all, Jon was fueled by it. The Panopticon Knew who—or what—he was. Still, Jon tried to shield Martin from it. If he didn’t want Jon to look into his mind, he especially didn’t want the Panopticon to. He tried to wrap Martin under one of his wings, but Jon’s own will could only protect Martin so much.

Eventually, after what felt like hours—or even days—they could see a red light, and the top of the staircase. Jon Knew Elias was there, and he could hear the static crescendoing around him as he scaled the last part of the staircase with Martin. 

When they reached the light and walked through the doorway, they could see Elias sitting on a throne in the middle of the room. The walls and ceiling were made almost entirely out of glass, and the parts that weren’t were stained glass depictions of the Entities. Above them all on the ceiling was the Beholding, and a figure that looked like Jon was sitting on a throne, a heavy crown of eyes on his head. Martin shuddered seeing it, but he turned his gaze back to Elias when he started to speak.

“Oh, Archive,” Elias started, getting up off the throne. “Are you well? Apologies if this is sacrilege, dear. I was merely keeping the throne and crown warm for you.”

Jon’s eyes drifted to the crown on his head. It was in the same shape as the crown in the stained glass, but the irises were glowing red. 

_“What_ do you think you’re doing?” Martin interjected. “You’re acting like Jon _wants_ those.”

“Doesn’t he?” Elias tilted his head. “I think it would do you better to refer to the Archive _properly,_ Martin. Although I suppose you’ve never been one for following rules.”

“Elias.” Jon’s voice brings Elias’s attention back to him again. “I don’t want them.”

“You’re lying to save face. To save Martin’s faith in you.”

Jon hesitated at that. “I’m not lying. But it’s not like I’m going to tell you the truth, either. You lost that privilege long ago.”

Elias balked, but he tried to keep his composure. “You know I could just look into your mind to find it, don’t you? You can’t hide from me, Archive.”

“You can’t See me. You’re a pitiful, selfish man who killed others just to avoid your own death. But _I_ can See you, Jonah.” Jon stepped forward, getting closer to Elias. Elias’s eyes widened, and he dropped to his knees. “You don’t _deserve_ any answers from me.” The static got louder, and Martin covered his ears as it creeped into the edges of his vision.

“You…” Elias laughed halfheartedly. “You want to kill me, don’t you? A-Archive, _Jon,_ whatever you want me to call you, just...give me a choice, just this once.”

“A _choice?”_ Jon laughed, and the static spiked for a split second. “I was never given a choice, all those years I worked for you. I didn’t choose to become the Head Archivist, and I _certainly_ didn’t choose to become the Archive. You robbed what little life I had from me, and when I try to get some of my own humanity back, you do your damndest to take it from me again. Over and over, you told me all about how I _chose_ this, about how it was _my_ fault I was getting marked, that I was preparing _myself_ for this. But you never told me about the end result. You never told me it would lead to this. You kept me in the dark the _entire time_...and you want me to give you a choice.”

“I-I…” Elias cut himself off with a gasp as Jon grabbed his jaw, holding his face up to look at him. It _hurt,_ feeling his Archive’s full gaze on him, but he still smiled. “Archive, you look so beautiful like this…” he whispered, still trying to placate him—even if he Knew, deep down, that it wouldn’t work.

“Are you scared, _Jonah?”_ The static grew even louder, and Elias struggled to hear his own reply.

“Y-...Yes.”

Even then, he could still hear Jon’s voice clear as day. _“Perfect.”_

Jon’s hand shifted, then, and Elias gasped as his thumbs flew to his eyes. He knew he was screaming as they dug into his eyes, but it turned to background noise when Jon spoke.

_“Ceaseless Watcher, turn your gaze upon this pathetic excuse for a servant. Consume him. Let him See all the pain and suffering he has caused over centuries of manipulation and pain. Let him See what has truly become of Jonah Magnus.”_

As Elias continued to scream, and Jon’s thumbs dug in further, he could feel his skin splitting open, and he Knew they were eyes, looking inward to his soul. They Saw how he rotted under his fear of the End, Saw all the pain and terror he inflicted upon others, how he tore the assistants apart, how he marred the Archive until he was unrecognizable.

As his eyes were destroyed, Elias saw one last vision of Jon, power crackling in his veins, his eyes and wings glowing green as he ripped apart the last pieces of Jonah Magnus left.

He stopped screaming. The eyes closed and faded back into his skin. The static stopped, and Jon let out a shaky breath. He kneeled to lower Elias’s head to the floor, and the crown slipped off of his head, the eyes on it closing. When Jon picked up the crown, the eyes opened again, the irises glowing green.

_“Jon!”_ Martin’s call brought him back to the rest of the world, and before he knew it, Martin was wrapping his arms tight around him. He shook inside his embrace, wings fluttering under his touch. “What...what did you _do?”_

“I…” Jon rested his head on Martin’s shoulder, looking at Elias’s corpse. He was now bleeding from his eye sockets, and where the eyes had appeared and faded on his body. “I have no idea. I thought he would just...cease to exist, like everyone else.” He sighed and wrapped his arms around Martin, rubbing circles into his back with his thumbs.

Martin pulled away from him slightly, keeping his arms on his shoulders as he looked down at the crown in Jon’s lap. “Are you...going to put it on?”

“I don’t know what’s going to happen if I do.”

Martin nodded, gripping Jon’s shoulders tighter for a moment. “Do you want to find out?”

“...I really don’t know what’s going to happen then.”


End file.
